


The Lonelies

by princesskay



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Emotional Baggage, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, plot with some porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:51:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on extended shore leave, Kirk meet and befriends a young call girl who he feels compelled to help out of her degrading lifestyle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Earth. Humans all around him. There was a strange hollowness about the places and streets he walked through without the hum and chatter of the elegant beauty that had been his for nearly twenty years. This was the first time in several years that he had even set foot on planet Earth, and he suspected that most homo sapiens wouldn't find that in his best interests. But, he had always been different than most people, an outsider that people gazed on with awe – and sometimes anger – but could never understand. And he had never understood them. He had always felt alone in this world, with no real connection, no real friends. It wasn't until he had joined Starfleet that he felt a sense of belonging. . .and when he first laid eyes on the Enterprise he had fallen in love.   
Twenty years in a week. That's how long it had been since his graduation from the Academy. Today, he was coming back to his home planet for the longest shore leave of his life. Three months. He didn't know what he would do with himself for that long. All he had known since those twenty years ago was life in space. The only humans that surrounded him were his crew, his close friends Mr. Spock and Dr. Leonard McCoy. It would be a drastic change, speaking to people in a fairly open level, without judging them to be aliens from another planet, or searching for some ulterior motive in their words.   
He had left off from McCoy an hour ago. The doctor had returned to his home state, down South to visit family. James T. Kirk had nowhere to go. He had no family, no one that he was longing to see. Spock was back on Vulcan with his parents, and he suspected the other four hundred and twenty five crew members were traveling to their own homes.   
They had beamed down to San Francisco, where Starfleet Command was located. They had reported in, gone through the necessary paperwork and then. . . .Yes, and then what? Kirk wandered up and down the streets with absolutely no direction, not knowing what it was he was looking for.   
At last, he stepped inside a high-end gentlemen's club. Inside, strobe lights flashed across the darkened room. Women danced on the platforms half a story above them. Men sat at the tables, watching the dancers, or lined the bar with drinks in their hands. Kirk let his gaze linger on the girls, suspecting that he was probably a little too old for their tastes. Women like them only saught out gentlemen of his age for their money. Starfleet was his beloved life's work, but he didn't become a billionaire in being employed by them. To everyone else in this club, he was just that – a veteran star traveler, still wearing his uniform proudly, even in this relaxed setting. Some might even view him as uptight. That was the problem with the young people. They didn't understand a meaningful life when they saw one.   
Kirk found an open bar stool and sat down. He ordered a drink from the bartender and kept to himself as he nursed the drink. Though he remained quiet, his eyes constantly moved around the club. He sat with his back to the corner, facing the doorway. It was an old habit that had developed years ago. He knew he was in America now, but the long years of service in a dangerous job engrained in him defense mechanisms that still went up instantly in such a crowded place.   
He went through three drinks, still not having spoken to anyone else. He drank in brooding silence, pondering how he was going to spend the rest of his leave. Sitting like this, alone in a bar, with a drink in his hand? That made him appear a little . . . lost. He had never felt lost on the Enterprise. God, he missed her already. He missed the stars sailing past them as they traveled at warp speed. He missed Mr. Sulu's unwavering hand at the helm. He missed Mr. Spock's rigidly logical decisions. He missed Bones's grumbling and complaining. He missed Lt. Uhura's soft, yet confident tone as she sifted through constant transmissions. He missed the bits of conversations with yoemens when they brought him charts and ledgers to sign. He missed the rush of adrenaline when Red Alert sounded. He missed it all.   
“You look like a man who needs company.”  
Caught up in his daydream, he became startled when he heard a voice at his shoulder. He turned to see a young woman standing next to him. Her thick auburn hair fell like waves of the ocean over slender, pale shoulders, and her light brown eyes shone with flecks of green that surrounded her irises. She wore a dress of a burnished gold color, which consisted of two strips of cloth that came over her shoulders, covered her breasts, and met at her waist. The skirt was short, barely meeting the middle of her thighs. Her legs appeared longer in the outfit, which ended with a pair of spike high heels. The shoes were made of clear substance and the heels were studded with what were probably real diamonds.   
“You look like a girl who could use some company.” He replied, a smile tugging at his lips.   
Who said he was too old to attract some attention?   
“You look like you know the feeling.” She said, sliding onto the bar stool next to him.   
“The feeling?”  
She set her elbows on the bar and leaned closer to him, her eyes growing half-lidded, “Desire. Unquenched desire.”   
“Some people would call me the expert.” He lowered his voice to her tone, reaching out to take her hand.   
She gazed at the medals on his chest, “Its nice to meet you. . . Captain.”  
He raised his eyebrows. She could read his accomplishments like most women couldn't.   
“Soon to be Admiral.” He informed her.  
He frowned softly when the words spilled from his mouth. She was the first person he had told that.   
“Admiral. Very impressive.” She smiled, her fingers wrapping around his.  
“Its nice to meet you too. . .?”  
“Anathia.” She supplied.  
“Anathia.” He echoed, “A beautiful name. . .for a beautiful woman.”  
She smiled in an almost surprised way, “Are you always this flattering, Admiral?”  
He lifted his shoulders, “It depends who you ask.”  
“I see.” Her fingers darted from his hand and traced his cheek, “You're the trouble-maker that always seems to make it out on top, aren't you?”  
“Are you reading my mind?”  
She laughed, softly, “I'm just a good judge of character.”  
She dropped her hand from his cheek and took his drink, a fourth one that he hadn't touched yet. She took a sip from it, and set it back down, half-way between them.   
“So,” Anathia continued, conversationally, “I never caught your name. . .just your rank.”  
“James T. Kirk.” He told her, stopping himself short from adding 'Captain of the USS Enterprise' after it.   
“Oh, so formal.” She chuckled.  
“Most people just call me Jim.” He joined her amusement.   
“Jim. It makes you feel human like the rest of us.”  
“What do you mean by that?”  
“I've heard your name around town.” Anathia explained, “This is San Francisco. The Federation has its great big ass positioned here. . .Starfleet news circulates here all the time. I've heard some stories about you. I wasn't sure I believed all of them were true.”  
“Well, that also depends - on who's telling the story.” Kirk said, taking the drink back from the table. He took a drink, and put it back in the place she had set it.   
“You have a strong character.” She said, smiling with an almost childish excitement, “And the strongest presence I've ever felt. It just makes me want to kiss you right here.”  
He laughed at her frankness, “Well, I don't think I've ever heard someone say it so plainly.”  
“I like to be open and honest with people.” She said, leaning closer to him, “It gets things done faster.”  
“It does.” He agreed, “I don't mind at all.”  
“Would you mind at all if I followed that impulse?” She murmured, bringing their faces inches from each other.   
“I wouldn't mind in the least.” He whispered back.  
She leaned forward and kissed him faster and more forcefully than he had expected. Her lips caught his, open-mouthed, her feet transferring from the rungs of her bar stool, to his. He quickly absorbed her passion, wrapping his arm around her slim waist and holding her to him as they kissed. He tasted her tongue against his, and opened his mouth wider, accepting the invasion. He met her tongue with his own, enjoying the sweet taste of saliva and tequila.   
When Anathia leaned back, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright, “If I said I could take us some place private, would you follow me?”  
“It depends how private.” He replied, brushing hair back from her cheek.  
“Very private.” She said, breathlessly.  
“Then I'd be delighted to follow you.”  
She hopped down from the rungs of the bar stool and grabbed his hand, eagerly. He accepted the grip and followed her through the crowded club, to the front door, leaving that fourth drink behind. 

~

Anathia paid for a transporter booth to take them to their destination. She typed in the location and pressed the button. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lips met his as their atoms were dispersed in the transporter beam. Seconds later, he could feel the warm pressure of her lips again, the stimulating feel of her body pressed tight to his. Kirk kissed her as deeply as in the club, his hands roaming over her body. She moaned softly against his mouth as he pulled the skirt of the dress up and took her buttocks in his palms.   
Her hands were trembling with desire when she began to pull the front of his uniform open. Their lips parted as they hurried to get out of their clothes. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and dropped the sturdy, red material to the ground. Her fingers desperately pulled the white undershirt from his body as well.   
He took her by the waist and pushed her against the nearest wall, kissing her with an urgency he hadn't felt in quite some time. He found the zipper that opened the back of the dress and pulled the scraps of material from her shoulders. The strips of cloth fell away from her full breasts. The dress clung to her hips for only a few moments before sliding to the ground at their feet. She bit at his lips with wild desire, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist. He palmed her breasts, desire rushing rampant through his body the moment he felt her soft skin beneath his hand, the hard, tender points of her nipples prodding with arousal against his grip.   
“Oh, Jim.” She gasped as her mouth dragged away from his, her body arching between him and the wall.   
He dropped to his knees, his mouth surrounding one jutting nipple. She moaned again, her fingers sliding into his hair and holding his lips to her. As he pleasured her breasts, he slid his hands up her thighs and found the waistband of the red, lace thongs she was wearing. He tugged them down and tossed the thin, damp material a few feet away. He moved his mouth to the second breast, his lips closing hungrily around the fresh, supple flesh. She clutched him to her more tightly, her responses growing louder when he urged her legs apart. Her legs shook, straining to keep her standing as his hand drifted between them, brushing ever so softly.   
“Jim, I. . .” She began, her sentence becoming interrupted by a groan, “God, I. . .I've never. . .”  
He parted her slick center and delved his fingers into the wet grasp of her body. She was taut around the two digits, already sharply aroused by his fondling.   
“I've never. . .” She breathed, her tone fraught with groans, “I've never felt this way before!” She managed to finish, her fingernails clawing at his shoulders.   
He rose slowly from the ground, his lips skimming up her chest and collarbones, grazing her throat and tracing the line of her clenched jaw. When he reached her earlobe, he whispered, “Let it. . . Let it feel that way.”  
“I. . I am!” She cried, “God, it feels s-so good!. . .Don't stop.”   
He caressed her more deeply, his fingers chafing against the firm nub of her clitoris. She rose to her toes, gasping urgently and rapidly in his ear. Her body quivered against him, her body taut about his fingers, growing closer to orgasm.   
He slowed his touch, concentrating his attention on her slick, taut clit. Her body went tense, her breathing nearly stopping. When it began, her breaths were even faster, her moans more constant, her grip on him tighter.   
He sped up again, and slowed. Fast and slow, he alternated his touch in a way that seemed to drive her crazy. She whimpered and moaned, her body shaking as he drew her closer and closer to the end. She was breathing his name over and over again in his ear, her grip white-knuckled on him by the time the climax seized her. She bucked against him, her body wildly enduring the delicious storm of pleasure. Her moan stretched out into a cry and grew higher, ending in a scream of ecstasy. Her body twitched with the aftershocks, and she whimpered softly as it faded. At last, she leaned against him, exhausted by the orgasm that had been carried out by almost desperate want.   
For the first time, Kirk looked up to see what their surroundings were. They were in a bedroom, artistically and dramatically designed. The bed was quite large, with a gossamer canopy over it. He wrapped his arms around Anathia and carried her in that direction.   
He laid her down in the middle and climbed between her legs. She began to sit up, reaching for his pants. He took her wrists and gently pressed them back to the mattress. She blinked with a slightly puzzled look on her face, but didn't resist. She sank back to the mattress as he dampened her nipples once more, setting in place the flicker of desire that would grow within her to a fire. He moved away from her breasts, his lips skimming down her trembling stomach. He rimmed her navel with his tongue, felt her respond with a soft moan. When his mouth ventured lower, she slid her legs over his shoulders, anticipating his next move.   
The deep, feminine scent of her womanhood stirred his desires again, leaving his cock aching more than before. But, he held back the final act. This was practically an art for him, and it required a certain finesse to leave a lasting impression on this type of woman. They hadn't spoken the word “prostitute” in one sentence of their conversations, but they both knew it was there. It hardly mattered to him. She was a lovely, yet lonely girl who needed someone to make a lasting impression.   
He parted his lips, letting a warm breath whisper over her center, still slick with arousal. He felt Anathia's body tense, her hands moving down to cup the back of his head once more. He closed the space between his mouth and her waiting body, extending his tongue. Her spine arched, a moan choked in her throat, when his tongue touched her inflamed core. He quickly pressed his tongue more firmly against her, drawing it along her wet slit. The musky taste of her arousal was soaked up by the heat of his desire, driving the blood through his veins like liquid fire. He gripped her hips and pulled her forward, taking the folds of flesh in his mouth, sucking gently at first, and then harder when he felt her buck against him, crying out loudly.   
“Jim! Jim, please!”  
Her voice was hoarse from her ragged cries, but her body was very much alive and vital beneath his mouth. He could taste the arousal being strained from her young, taut body, the rushes of wetness a testament of her willing desire. She was sweet and wildly stimulating to his senses, leaving him voracious for more.   
He tilted her hips up to his lips, and thrust his tongue into her. Her body was like a vice around it, wet and quivering as her body waited impatiently for the climax. He didn't hold back from pleasuring her with all the expert ministrations that she was expecting. He laved her, in and out, his tongue swirling, stroking and teasing the flesh, already sensitized by his earlier intrusion. Her body began to undulate against him, her hips rotating in tight, strained circles against his tongue. He met her passion, coaxing her shuddering body towards the precipice of pleasure.   
Anathia's fingers curled around his hair, her whole body going rigid as she neared the edge. She moaned quickly with each breath that went in and out of her lungs, the responses growing in intensity.   
“Jim. . .” She managed to say his name, “Jim, it's. . It's. . .”  
He drew his tongue over her clit, urging her to come.  
That's it. . .that's its. . .Come. Let it come.  
As if she could read his sensual thoughts, she arched from the bed crying, “It's. . It's c-coming!”  
The spasms that rocked her body moments afterword confirmed her exclamation and fulfilled his desires. She writhed and groaned, the second orgasm as strong as the first that he had wrought from her body.   
When the last shivers had pleasure had left her body used up and still, he rose to his knees above her. This time, she lay unmoving beneath him, allowing him to strip his pants off at his own pace. Her cheeks were pink, her lips parted with deep breaths that sharply lifted her breasts, and her eyes were round as if she were still trying to absorb the intensity of the climax. He had a feeling he was accomplishing his goal of leaving that lasting impression.   
Kirk dropped the formal, Starfleet-issue slacks over the side of the bed, along with his shorts, and let her view his fully erected manhood for moment. A gleam of delight lit her wide eyes and she parted her legs suggestively. He drew one finger along her thigh, stroking the soft flesh. She tilted her head back and moaned softly, her body curving lithely like a feline. When he reached her knee, he took a hold of her and turned her onto her stomach. She rolled compliantly with his guidance, her backside rising as she spread her legs.   
He leaned over her, smoothing the long strands of auburn hair away from her ivory shoulders. He brushed his lips over her back, kissing the flesh softly. His hands, resting on her lower back, moved down to cup her buttocks, squeezing them gently. Anathia purred with pleasure, a soft affirmation of her desire. It urged him onward, boosting his motivation to pleasure her even higher.   
Dipping his thumbs between her buttocks, he felt the slick, sweet honey of her desire still coating her feminine lips. She moaned louder, her hips rising. He smiled briefly at her condition – she was exactly the way he wanted her.   
Kirk slid his hands from her buttocks, deftly darting beneath her to pull her towards him. The tip of his cock touched her center and he thrust forward, gaining entrance the hot, tight grip of her body. A groan burst from his lips, the pleasure spreading like a shock wave throughout his entire body. With the taste of her still lingering on his lips, he felt himself draw dangerously closer to climax. He gritted his teeth and began to move against her, feeling the arousal rise to an ache.   
Anathia met his thrusts, her hips shifting back against his body, their perspiring bodies meeting forcefully each time. Her moaning continued since the moment they had transported into this room. The sound chafed against his arousal, making him desire her even more desperately.  
Sliding his hand up her stomach, he spread his fingers over her chest and throat and lifted them to their knees. His other hand moved to the inside of one thigh, and held her to him. She gasped aloud as he began to enter her in a different way, her hands reaching out to grab onto the headboard of the bed. She clung to it for support as he impaled her with a driving force from behind. The whole bed, a kind of hover device, shifted with the strength and motion of their passionate lovemaking.   
“Yes!” Anathia cried, “Yes, Jim! Harder! Harder!”  
He met her demands with a surge of energy that made the bed's hovering mechanisms strain to keep it in place. He drove into her again and again, keeping the strength of his thrusts steady even as his muscles strained and sweat made his skin slick. He concentrated singly on the one desire in his mind – to extract the maximum amount of pleasure he could from this encounter.   
The pressure built faster and faster with each second that passed, pushing him closer to completion. He could feel Anathia shaking, her body clenching about his manhood, squeezing him over and over. The sensation charged him with electrical excitement, causing the first waves of pleasure to lap at him. He scraped his hands up to her swaying breasts, fondling and pinching her nipples. She moaned louder, her knuckles bleaching with the strength of her grip on the bed frame.  
Just when he thought he couldn't hold back one moment longer, he felt her body be taken by the convulsions of orgasm. He willingly followed her into the abyss, his body jerking against hers in the throes of pleasure. It tore through him, a uncontrollable, delicious explosion that ripped apart every stable thought, leaving him with nothing but his basic, primal instincts. Raw pleasure singed each nerve-ending, forcing a rough cry from his lips.   
The response joined with hers, rising and falling on the dissipating wave of pleasure. It faded away too soon, like the white foam of water breaking on the beach. Several moments later, they sank to the twisted sheets, breathing in a choppy, but synchronous rhythm.   
They lay there for a long time afterword, silent and unmoving in the aftermath of the almost violent burst of pleasure. Kirk wrapped his arms around Anathia and held her in his arms until he heard her breathing in deep sleep. It took longer for him to find peace enough to sleep.   
The encounter had indeed provided the escape and pleasure he was searching for, but it had reminded him of other things. He, quite like this beautiful but misguided girl, was alone in this world, constantly searching for fleeting delights that were nearly as tangible as the wind passing through his fingertips. He had had his share of women, but none of them had presented such a stark image of himself – like a mirror – that he could gaze upon with sudden realization. How many of the women that he had been with had he actually loved? How many had meant more than the next tryst to him? How many had impacted his life in ways he would never forget?   
The unfortunate answer was not many. If he tried, he probably couldn't remember all their faces. In the end, they only represented one face – his. One of desperation, seeking and not finding. . . left wondering where true happiness and completion was. He had never felt it because he could never commit to any one woman. He wanted them all and he didn't want to live with the repercussions of a lasting relationship. It was commitment that had driven him away almost every time. He was more loyal to the Enterprise than a woman. It was easier that way. His ship didn't talk back, didn't give him ultimatums, didn't demand things he couldn't give, didn't argue when he finally knew he had to leave. . .  
Kirk gazed down on the restful expression of sleep that graced Anathia's stunning features. She was the kind that could make a difference. Even if he had only known her for a few hours, he knew a treasure when he saw one. What he was holding in his arms was that kind of treasure. He had never been able to commit to a woman, but perhaps he could help one. He had saved so many lives on other planets, helped people fix their own relationships. Couldn't he help this lost and lonely girl?


	2. Chapter 2

Kirk exited the bathroom of the hotel, his hair damp and a towel around his neck. He found Anathia standing at the window, wearing a short, silky robe that hung just below her buttocks. She stared pensively through the window pane, a cigarette slowly burning between her fingers.   
When he entered the room, she turned around, a smile playing across her mouth, “I was just thinking,” She said, walking over to him, “I know now that some of those stories are true.”  
She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. He kissed her back, tasting the thick essence of smoke. When she pulled back he smiled, “I didn't know those stories were in circulation, too.”  
“Don't be so humble.” She took a drag on the cigarette, “They're some of the most circulated.”   
“I'll take that as a compliment.”   
She sat down on the edge of the bed as he picked up his shirt from the floor. Shaking out the wrinkles, he slid back into it. The cloth still didn't look at neat and pressed as usual, but it would have to do.   
He walked over to her, reaching into his pocket. She looked up in surprise when he withdrew a credit card and extended it to her, “Here.”  
She raised an eyebrow, “Most respectable, well-known men pay me through several bank transfers. Its less traceable that way.”  
“Its fully charged.” He said, ignoring her comment, “Don't waste it on these,” He plucked the cigarette from between her lips, “They're bad for you.”  
“Well, I've heard it before.” She crossed her arms as he put out the cigarette in the small, glass bowl sitting on the nightstand, “Just not from a customer.”  
“I like to escape the status quo.” He smiled, softly.  
“So, fully charged?” Anathia examined the card, “That's a lot of money for one night.”  
“I expect it to last a lot longer than that.” He replied, seriously.  
She followed his movements about the room, a expression of confusion written on her face, “I don't understand you. Last night, you were the expert, perfect lover and now. . . a concerned father figure?”  
“Not exactly.” He sat down next to her, “When I was still aboard my ship, sometimes I would make rounds, talk to my crew, learn about them. It helped gain rapport and trust, but it did something far more important. . .I learned what kind of men and women they were. I learned if I could trust them, and not the other way around. A ship is only as good as it's captain, but what good is the captain, if he doesn't have a crew to command his ship?”  
“What are you trying to tell me?”  
“I'm trying to tell you that in all my years of experience as a starship captain, I have learned many things. I learned the Enterprise like the back of my hand. I learned a lot about alien cultures. I learned some moral lessons. I learned how to side-steps rules without getting into trouble. I learned the signifance of having as good of friends as enemies. But, the one thing the helped me learn all of those was how to read people. How to understand their intentions, their potential, their beliefs and thought patterns. When I saw a crewman, I could read them within ten minutes of conversation. That's how I came to understand you last night.”  
He could tell that she understood what he was trying to tell her, but he could also see that it made her uncomfortable. She averted her eyes from him and lifted her chin, remaining silent.   
“I don't meet people like you very often, Anathia.” He said, his voice softening, “I just want to be of some use to you, other than another paycheck.”   
“What is this? Some kind of intervention? You don't even know me.” She glanced over at him, a waver in his voice.   
“I know what its like to wander around in the limelight, accepted, but alone.” Kirk continued, taking her by the shoulders, “I know what its like to search and scrape and scratch for meaning, for belonging. I know how it feels to wonder if you'll ever find happiness.”  
She stared back at him, speechless.   
“I don't expect to take credit for changing your life. I just want to help.”  
“So did you?” She asked, blinking back the moisture in her eyes.   
“Did I what?”  
“Find it? Happiness?”  
“I think so.” He nodded, smiling, “It was among my friends, those who knew me the best. It was right in front of my eyes the whole time. I just couldn't see it.” He let his hands slide from her shoulders. He gazed out the window, “You can't really understand true trust until you go through life and death situations with people willing to give it all for you.”  
“I suppose I wouldn't understand it, then.” Anathia replied, softly.   
“Maybe someday you will.” He said, rising from the bed, “Its an experience worth waiting for.”  
“Death?” She asked, “Facing it. Its worth it?”  
“If you have the right person by your side, there's nothing to fear. I know I do.”  
She looked down at the credit card still resting in her hand, her expression changing subtley, yet changing all the same, “I think I understand now.”

~

Two nights later, Kirk's steps – whether consciously or unconsciously, he wasn't sure – led him to the front doors of the same gentlemen's club in which he had met Anathia. He didn't know if he would ever see her again or if she would take his advice. He knew by coming here he could lure her back to him for sex, instead of changing her life, but he felt strongly compelled go into the club. Even if he didn't want to admit it, he wanted to see her again.   
He sat down at the same empty seat and ordered brandy. The drink came to him quickly. The bar was only half full, but in another hour the place would be filled to the maximum as it had been the night he met Anathia.   
Kirk turned the chair towards the room and watched both the door and the people inhabiting the club. Three girls performed a synchronized routine on the platform, their slender, lithe bodies swaying, spinning, twisting and turning, urging the men before them to commit more credits to them, via the consols built into the arms of the chairs. It seemed like frivolous spending, but he couldn't judge them. He had just recently handed over two thousand credits to a prostitute last night.   
With more time to think about his decision, he wondered if he could make a difference in the girl's life at all.   
As he had predicted, men wandered into the club in an almost continuous stream for the next hour. They were men of all races, occupations and backgrounds, some wearing finely tailored suits while others appeared to hold blue-color jobs. The only thing some had in common was their search for amusement, pleasure and escape.   
Kirk drank slower and with less pleasure tonight than he had two nights ago. He couldn't keep his mind off Anathia. He had changed the lives of hundreds – reforming governments, urging the weak stand up and grow strong, encouraging the slaves to overthrow the dictators, vanquishing dominating godlike technology, convincing the enemy of the people, that in the end, it was better to be friend than foe – but had he ever attempted to change someone so personally, so drastically? He had his doubts.   
Just as he began to wonder if he would ever see Anathia again, he felt a hand on his arm, quite like two nights ago, “You like a man who could use some company.”  
He turned to see her standing there, that same mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She was wearing a strapless red dress, and black heels tonight, choosing deeper, more sensual colors than the carefree spirit of her clothes the first time they had met. He felt his heart rate pick up as his gaze involuntarily slid up and down her frame.   
The words left his lips without another thought, “You look like a girl who could use some company.”  
She laughed, a young, joyous laugh that made him want to laugh along. She sat down on the stool next to him and reached out to take his hand, “I'm glad to see you here again, Jim.”  
“I could say the same to you.”   
She smiled again, this time more out of relief than delight. She lowered her head and glanced up at him through a fringe of dark lashes, “I couldn't stop thinking about you. I had to come back.”  
He lifted her hand to his mouth and laid a gentle kiss to the back of it, “I feel the same way.”  
She squeezed his hand, again a sign of relief, of wanting to hold onto him, “Where do you want to go?” She asked.  
“Anathia-” He began, hesitantly.  
“I'll take us anywhere.” She whispered, “I want you – I've wanted you since you left that hotel room. I couldn't stop myself tonight. I tried, but I couldn't stay away.” She slid down from the stool and moved closer to him, putting her hands on his chest. She brought her mouth to his ear, her voice continuing with urgency and desire, “I thought about you touching me with your hands, and then with your mouth. . .” She drew in a shuddering breath, a soft moan reaching his ear when she breathed out again, “And it made me want you even more. I was so wet, I-”  
“Anathia.” He took her by the shoulders and forced her away from him before she could arouse him even more than she already had, “Do you remember what we talked about?”  
She blinked away the spark of recognition he saw in her eyes and said, “We didn't talk about anything but what we wanted, Jim. I know what I want. I want you.” She pulled out of his grip and took his hands in hers, “Come with me.”  
“Anathia-”  
“I want to show you something I think you'll like.” She smiled, devilishly.   
Before he could protest further, she pulled him from the stool and led him through the mass of bodies crowding the club. It took him several moments to realize that she wasn't leading him to the front door. They were headed towards the back of the club, where there was another door. The words FACULTY ONLY were printed on it.   
“Anathia, what are you doing?” He demanded.  
She ignored him, pushing the door open. The entrance led into a long hall that was littered with decorations, outfits, tools and various other miscellaneous objects. It was dim inside except for a small window that cast the pewter glow of the moon over the room.   
Anathia led him to chair that matched the ones in the club, except for the broken consol. She pushed him down into it, planting her knee between his legs before he could get back up.   
“We're not supposed to be back here.”   
“You never struck me as a guy that followed the rules.” She said, leaning over to bring their faces inches apart. Despite his arguments, his eyes wandered lower to glimpse a view of her cleavage.  
“I. . .I never really did.” He admitted, quietly.   
“No,” She said, laying a fingertip on his shoulder. She slowly began to move it down his chest, “You like to break the status quo.”   
“I. . .” His voice faltered as her fingertip moved lower, past his belt-buckle. Her gentle touch stroked his manhood through his pants, causing him to grow harder.   
“I never got to show you what I have to offer.” She sank to her knees in front of him, her lips curling, her eyes shining, “You proved your expertise, and now I will prove mine.”  
“Anathia. . .” He whispered, his fingers gripping the arms of the chair as she tugged his belt open and then the front of his pants, “Anathia, I. . .”  
“I don't expect you to say anything.”  
She pulled his pants down. Though he wanted to stop her, more of him wanted her to proceed. He let her peel the cloth away from his thick, aching cock, leaving him vulnerable to her methods of persuasion. The leather covering on the seat clung to his perspiring skin, and the edges dug into his fingers.   
She darted forward, her hands deftly guiding the tip of his throbbing manhood to her mouth. His hips rose from the chair, a moan bubbling from his throat. He clamped his jaw shut, reaching down to grip the back of her head. The immediate pleasure swamped his senses, drowning out any thought of resistance. It had been only moments since she had brought him in here, and already she was proving her expertise, just as she had said. At this rate, he didn't know how long he would last. . .  
Her lips sucked him firmly into her mouth, her head bobbing in a stroking, sensual rhythm. His body involuntarily slid down in the seat, moving his hips closer to her. He pressed his head to the back of the chair, squeezing his eyes closed while her lips and tongue danced over his aroused manhood, quickly pleasuring him towards climax.   
“Anathia. . .” He manged between heavy breaths, “God, please. . .” His words were choked by a moan of pleasure that rose in his throat. He swallowed it back, though his argument continued to waver, “We. . . we can't. . .Stop. . .”   
She reached up to cradle him in her palms as she drew back long enough to speak, “We can. And I know you want it.”  
“Ana-” His protest was cut off when she took him back in her mouth, her teeth gently grazing the agonized flesh. He gripped the locks of hair caught in his sweaty palms, not sure whether to push her away or to pull her against him. His plan had failed severely, and yet, he wanted her again. He couldn't help it. His body cried out for the release even as his mind revolted against it.   
He mustered his restraint for one last supplication, even though he knew he was too far gone to want to obey it, “Anathia, s-stop. . .We'll go somewhere else. . .We'll. . .” He felt his eyes roll back, his body go slack, weakened and controlled by the pleasure that slowly began to grip him.   
A shudder rippled down his body, his stomach warming, clenching with the first hints of climax. He let his words fade into oblivion, knowing they would do nothing now. He was going to come right here, right now in the back store room of the club, with Anathia's lips coaxing him all the way.   
The fact that it was now beyond his control set a flame of anger in his chest. He grabbed her hair tighter and forced her against him. He felt the back of her mouth meet the tip of his cock. Her fingers gripped his thighs, her eyes growing wide. After a moment, she managed to adjust to his change in behavior, her mouth moving faster with the forceful guidance of his hands.   
You want it, you'll get it. It might not just be in the way you want! His mind raged, indignantly.   
Though he was taking out his anger on her, he knew he was mostly upset with himself. He had failed to keep control of the situation and accomplish his goal. Essentially, he had driven this girl further into this dead-end lifestyle instead of pulling her out of it. Perhaps it would have been better if he had never met her.   
His anger was swallowed up in pleasure when her lips drew him to the brink of pleasure. He let go, feeling the heat of completion jar his body into spasms of pleasure. The legs of the chair scraped against the floor as it moved backwards. He dragged Anathia with him, keeping her mouth against him as he came onto her tongue. She moaned loudly, her response joining his in a sound which was hopefully muffled by the noise outside in the bar.   
He was breathing hard, both from exhilaration and frustration by the time the powerful grip of pleasure released him. He sat still for a moment, regaining his composure. Anathia sat back, a look of smug triumph on her beautiful features.   
He rose from the chair, pulling his pants back up around his waist. He buckled the belt with rigid movements, his gaze not meeting hers.  
Anathia rose from the ground, “See, I told you you would like-”  
“Stop it!” His voice rose and she seized her by the shoulders, “Don't you get it? I'm trying to help you!”   
Shock froze her features, her eyes round, her mouth open. Did she not understand that he was being sincere when he gave her credit card? Didn't she understand that he actually cared?   
“Jim, I was just trying to make you happy.” She said, quietly, at last.   
“Well pat yourself on the back.” He snapped, “You did a good job. You accomplished your goal.”   
“I. . .I don't understand.” She shook her head, her eyes growing wet.   
He let out a breath, letting go of her arms. Yelling at her wouldn't help.   
“I was being truthful when I said I wanted to help you.” He replied, his voice much softer this time, “Its the only thing I know how to do. I bet you never heard any of those stories did you?”  
“I never heard that the legendary tough-guy had a soft side.” She answered.  
“I couldn't count the number of slaves I freed on other planets.” He whispered, “I couldn't tell you how many governments we encountered that needed correcting. . . .And I'm not sure how many women I met. But, I never really helped any of them. . .I just tried to love them. And maybe that wasn't the right thing to do.”   
“I think it is.” She said, “Any woman would be lucky to be loved by a man like you.”  
He lifted his eyes to look at her. She was looking at him with hope and expectancy in her eyes. She was looking for affirmation, recognition. She wanted someone to notice her for more than the prostitute she was. She just didn't know how to avoid that image.  
“I won't be coming back to this club.” He said, turning towards the door, “I am not going to enable you to continue the way you are.”  
“Wait!” She rushed to his side, clinging to his arm, “Don't go! Please, don't leave!”  
“I have to.” He said, refusing to meet her gaze, “For your sake.”  
“Don't you stand here and tell me that this is for my good, James T. Kirk!” Her voice rose on the pitch of tears, “I have never met anyone so good and kind and caring in all my life, and I am not going to just let you walk away!”  
He didn't answer. He couldn't.   
“Do you hear me?” She tugged on his arm, “No one has ever cared about me the way you have. I don't want to lose that.”  
Her broken-hearted pleas pained his heart. Was he doing the right thing? Could he just leave her here alone? But what if he did stay? She would fall into the same patterns if she got what she wanted. She would have no incentive to change, no will to fix her situation.   
He pried her fingers from his arm and walked to the door, and pulled it open, letting the sounds and strobe lights of the club spill into the room. In the cacophony of noise, he whispered, “Good-bye, Anathia.”


	3. Chapter 3

1 month later

A group of mismatched musicians played stringed instruments in the corner of the elegant diner, their various races' instruments collaborating to create a beautiful song. Kirk noticed a young Vulcan woman playing the stringed instrument of her planet, identical to the one Spock owned. Kirk smiled softly as the woman's appearance made him think nostalgically of the Enterprise.   
The days had gone by easier every morning he woke up. He was beginning to accept the shore leave and take the time to enjoy it. He still thought of his ship and his friends, and often of Anathia, but he managed to keep himself in good spirits.   
There was an antique bookshop across the street from his hotel. He liked to go there and lose himself in a novel for a couple of hours, before the owners threw him out at closing time. They had become so accustomed to seeing him there that they let him borrow the books more often than other customers. Today, he had a copy of The Grapes of Wrath which he was nearly done with. He was absorbed in the last few pages when someone sitting down across from him drew his attention back to reality. He looked up to see a young woman with hazel eyes and styled auburn hair. She was wearing a conservative suit of dress pants, a collared shirt and a little black vest and fit snuggly over her full breasts.   
“Hello, Jim.” She said, softly.  
He blinked in surprise, quickly realizing that he was looking at Anathia.   
“Anathia.” He said, his voice somewhere between a question and a statement, “My God, you look. . .”  
“Different?” She asked.   
“Stunning.” He finished.   
The confidence and steel veneer she had walked into the restaurant with softened. She lowered her head for a moment. Clearing her throat, she continued, “That certainly wasn't the response I expected.”  
“And I never expected this.” He replied, putting the bookmark in his place and setting the volume on the table beside him, “I guess I shouldn't have doubted the resolve of a woman like you.”  
She lifted her eyes to his, and he saw that she was trying not to smile, “Well, don't get too excited. It's only a start.”   
“A start that makes all the difference.” He replied.  
“I did what you said.” She said, “I used your money to establish myself permanently. I got a job – not one as well-paying as the other, but one more rewarding. I moved out of the neighborhood I was in.” She nodded, slowly, “This change is better than I expected.”   
He didn't try to hide his smile as she had, “I'm proud of you.”  
“Really?”   
He nodded, reaching across the table to take her hand, “You had the courage to change when most people would have accepted the easier path.”  
“It was hard, at first.” She agreed, “Then I remembered everything you said, about trying to find true happiness and having trustworthy friends. . .I realized that if I didn't make a lifestyle change, I would never have any concept of those things accept in my dreams. To be honest, I've never been happy until now, and I definitely didn't have life-or-death friends. The people I knew back there, they just wanted me for my body, or for money, or connections. . . As long as I could get them what they wanted, they stuck around. When I left, they didn't want to have anything to do with me.”  
“That can be hard.”  
“Its wasn't after I realized they weren't the kind of friends I wanted, anyways.” She squeezed his hand, “I just came in to thank you. I've seen you around town, but until now, I didn't have the balls to approach you.”  
“Why not? You've done the right thing.”  
She lifted her shoulders, “I don't know. I didn't have any idea how you would react or what you would think or. . .Its just not as easy, being the real me.”  
“I understand. I'm glad you came in.”   
“Me too.” She smiled, “Thanks for the tough love tactic, Jim. It was the best thing you could have done.”   
“At first I wasn't so sure.” He admitted, “I'm happy to see my risk-taking turned out the way I wanted.”  
She laughed, softly, “It was a risk. . .One worth taking. . .I don't think anyone has ever cared that much. I never knew my father; my mother was just like me. The street corner was all I knew from the day I was born. My only friends were the few toys my mother got for me. I was so lonely all my life that I just wanted someone – anyone – close to me. Growing up the way I did, I thought the best way to get that comfort was through sex. In the end, it was never as gratifying as I expected. The men I slept with just wanted some kind of release, or pillow talk to ease the pressure of real life. I never really cared about their problems; I just acted like I did, and they did the same for me. . . .And then you came along. . .I wasn't lying when I told you I had never felt that way before. No one ever took the time to please me first, or make sure I was comfortable and happy. I didn't know what to do, so I just told you how I felt.”  
Kirk was silent for several moments. He hadn't expected Anathia to completely change her lifestyle. He hadn't expected her to be so honest with him. He hadn't expected any of this.   
“Who was it that said honest is the best policy?” He said, at last.  
She smiled, “Benjamin Franklin, a very long time ago.”  
He dipped his head, “I'm glad to see you know your history.”  
“And you know yours.” She said, her smile growing.  
“I'll tell you one thing I do know,” He said, taking her hand again, “You did the right thing, and I'm proud of you.”  
“That's two things.” She murmured, tracing the back of his hand with her fingertips.   
“All the better.” He reached over and lifted her chin, “I've got to be getting back to Starfleet soon, but don't be a stranger.”  
“I won't. I promise.” She lowered her head to kiss his hand, “You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, James Kirk. I won't easily forget that.”

~

3 weeks later

The hover-taxi put on its breaks for a red light. Kirk glanced out the window, relishing the feeling of complete belonging that he felt, dressed in his Starfleet uniform. He was driving to Starfleet Command, where he would be flown the Spacedock. The Spacedock where his elegant, white lady awaited. The Enterprise. His one true love.   
Of course, he couldn't forget that it was the Spacedock where his crew awaited, as well. He first thought of Spock, the life-or-death friend that he had described to Anathia. It would be good to see him again, after such a long absence. Spock had become a part of his life, so integral Kirk thought of him more as family than crew member. Even close friend didn't seem sufficient.   
Everyone else's faces came in quick succession. Leonard McCoy, that old rascal. He had truly missed the doctor and his twang, not to mention his stubborn, bull-headed personality. He couldn't forget Scotty, or Sulu, or Chekov. They had been a part of his life as long as everyone else, had been good, loyal friends for almost as long. Then, there was the lovely Uhura, whose magic when it came to communcations he couldn't have lived without.   
The very thought of them all made him extremely homesick. He missed the sleek interior of the Enterprise, the soft roar of her engines, the comforting chirping of her instruments, her window where he viewed the stars, flying past them as they journeyed into space. Closing his eyes, he could almost feel the captain's seat beneath him, hear the sounds of his ship, the voices of his crewmen. Almost. . . .  
“Whooie. . .What a looker.”  
The sound of the driver's voice jarred Kirk from his daydreaming. He opened his eyes to see who the man was talking about. At first, all he saw were a hundred people streaming up and down the sidewalks and the rows and rows of vehicles that stretched on down the road. But, it didn't take him long to zero in on the “looker” that had caught the man's attention.   
She had long legs, tightly encased in black fishnets, and a nice, round ass beneath the taut, red leather of her miniskirt. Her breasts were full and spilling from the front of the belly-revealing shirt she wore. But it was the mane of auburn hair, whose veins of red caught in the glow of the setting sun, that sparked recognition in Kirk's brain. And when he face turned in his direction, he knew for sure. He felt his heart drop, a sharp pain going through him. It was the same pain he felt when he and Carol had been fighting over David's custody. The pain that had driven through him when David decided to go with his mother. It was the sense that he was losing someone that he deeply cared for, someone that he had tried to mentor, but had failed to influence.   
Anathia. He knew, without a doubt, that it was her. Underneath the thick make-up and red lipstick, it was the beautiful, gentle woman that he had tried so hard to change.   
“Stop.” He whispered. When the driver didn't hear him, he said it louder, “Stop!”  
“Are you sure, Captain?” The driver looked in the rear-view mirror at him, “We're almost to Starfleet Command.”  
“Yes, I'm sure. Stop this vehicle. Now.”  
The guy shrugged, searched his mirrors and found a safe place to pull over, next to the curb.   
“Thank you.” Kirk said, “I'll pay you an extra hundred if you stay here and wait for me.”  
The driver lifted his eyebrows, “All right.”  
“Thank you.” Kirk repeated, even as he began to jog his way back down to the sidewalk. He pushed his way through the crowd of people that all seemed to be moving in the opposite direction as he was. He caught several glares and a few curses, but kept moving. He prayed that Anathia hadn't moved. He prayed that he could move her the way he had before. Whatever had driven her back here, he had to understand it, and he had to change it. He couldn't go back to his ship knowing she was still out here like this.   
He reached an intersection, barely looking both ways before rushing out into the street. A hover-car braked for his passage and blared the horn. Ignoring the vehicle, he reached the other side and stopped. This was where he had seen her. He looked up and down the street frantically, searching for the back of her head, or the sparkle of her hazel eyes. For a few dreadful moments, he thought he had lost her. And then, his eyes caught sight of, just near the edge of the sidewalk. She was looking either way, getting ready to cross.   
He took off again, forging a path through the sea of moving people until he reached her. She lifted a foot; he had only seconds before she stepped foot into the street and was lost in the traffic. He ducked around a woman carrying a baby and came to a halt at the edge of the sidewalk. He reached out, putting a hand on Anathia's arm.  
“Anathia, wait!”  
She spun around, her eyes going wide. For a moment, she just stared at him, her face like that of a child caught stealing red-handed. Except, here, the consequences were far more dire, the price much higher. This was a human life, on the brink of ruin.   
“Jim.” She whispered, “I thought you left.”  
“I'm leaving today.” He said, “What are you doing?”  
She swallowed and looked away, “I can't talk here. I'm working.”  
“This is not work.” He said, striving to keep the anger and hurt out of his voice.   
“Today it is. I just need a little more money to get by.”  
“That is a lie.” He argued, “If you give in for one day, you will never come back. You know that just as well as I do.”  
“Jim, please.” She glanced around, wincing at the stares they were drawing from other working girls.  
“Come with me.” He lowered his voice, “Just give me a few minutes to talk.”  
He looked away, her gaze meeting everything but his eyes. She took a step back, and for a second, he thought she would bolt. But, she stayed still, indecision clear on her features.   
“I know this isn't what you want.” He insisted, “Let me help you. Please.”  
“What can you do? Give me another credit card?”  
“If it keeps you off the streets doing this, then yes.”  
“Why?” She asked, lifting her head, her eyes wide and sad, “Why are you doing all this for me?”  
“Because, I believe in you. I believe you're better than this.”  
Her face almost crumpled, but she held it together. She pursed her lips, squeezing the tremble from them. A stray tear slipped down her cheek, “Please. . .” She whispered, “Get me out of here, Jim.”

~

By the time Kirk and Anathia had reached his house, the sun had gone down. He left her in the living room, sitting in one of the two chairs positioned in front of the fireplace while he went to the wine cellar to find them something to drink. When he returned with two glasses, she sat with her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes gazing sightlessly into the flames.   
He extended her one of the glasses, “Why don't you start by telling me what happened?” He asked, gently.  
She took the glasses and brought it to her lips. She lowered it to her lap after taking a slow drink. At last, she replied, “I got scared. Prostitution is the only thing I've ever known. In my new job I felt . . .inadequate, unworthy. My boss gave me the whole weekend off, two weeks in a row. . .I thought he was punishing me for not doing a good job.” She looked away as a tear slipped down her cheek, “I don't know if he really was; I just know I was scared as hell that I wasn't going to make it. . . So I went back.”  
“You could have called.”  
“And prove to you, too, that I was worthless?”  
“You're not worthless.” He said, moving to the edge of the chair to take her hand, “I said I believe in you and that's the truth.”  
“But why?” She swung her gaze back to him, “I don't understand, Jim.”  
“Do you remember that first night at your house?”  
“Of course.” A ghost of a smile crossed her lips.  
“We were laying in the dark, and I was holding you in my arms.” He squeezed her hands, clearly recalling the moment he had realized he needed to help her, “You asked me if I ever got lonely out in space.”  
“You said, 'All the time'.” She murmured.  
He nodded, “Then I asked you, 'Do you ever get lonely?' You never answered me, but what you didn't say was answer enough. I do know what its like to be lonely, Anathia, and its perhaps the most excruciating, torturous emotion a human can experience. We weren't created to be alone, and even when you are surrounded by men willing to pay a hundred credits for your services you are still alone. I knew I couldn't leave you like that.”  
“So you decided to help me?”  
“I knew I had to try because if I left you alone then, I would have never forgiven myself. I have worked so hard for twenty years to ensure that the Federation helps every planet, humanoid or otherwise, but I don't think I've ever helped someone the way I'm trying to help you.”  
She looked away, her eyes wet with unshed tears, “I can't imagine how you felt today when you saw me on the street.”  
He reached over and gently turned her face back to his, “I'm not angry with you, if that's what you mean.”  
Her eyes darted away from his once more, “I really do want to change. . .I just don't know if I can do it alone.”  
There was silence for a moment and then she met his gaze again, “Can you help me again, Jim?”

~

4 years later

Kirk tugged at the collar of his ceremonial uniform, looking himself in the mirror, critically. He could already feel the perspiration gathering beneath the heavy material and tried to imagine how it would feel once he got out on the stage. . .Out in front of over one-thousand students who were graduating from Starfleet Academy this semester – students that had personally nominated him to speak in front of them. It was a high honor, hearing that he had been voted by a landslide to be the main speaker for graduation.   
He had no trouble being the captain over four-hundred men and women aboard a starship, or making command decisions, or facing the threat of being surrounded by Klingon warships. But, here, he felt at a loss for what to say to the young, exuberant crowd of ambitious students who were expecting him to deliver all the right words to inspire them towards greater things. He had made a speech or two in his days of space-searching, when a certain culture needed correcting, but he was in no way a public speaker. He believed in saying what needed to be said and moving on to more profitable things – like doing what needed to be done.   
“You're gonna snap those fancy buttons right off.” Leonard McCoy entered the room, “Relax, Jim. This isn't the nuetral zone you're headed into.”  
“You're right, Bones.” Kirk let his hand fall from his collar, “Its worse. What do I say to these kids? Are they expecting some pearls of wisdom from my years of experience?”  
McCoy raised an eyebrow, “You're telling me you have nothing prepared.”  
“I did.” Kirk replied, “I'm just not sure its what I want to say.”  
“Well, why don't you practice in front of me?” McCoy said, stepping back and lowering himself into a chair, “I'm all ears.”  
“No disrespect, Bones, but I think my real audience would be much quieter and much happier to hear what I have to say.”  
McCoy's mouth stretched in a grin, “You're right, I suppose. I never quite understood the meaning of all this pomp and circumstance. Where I came from-”  
“Yes, yes, I know.” Kirk waved a hand to silence him, “You're a good ol' boy.”  
McCoy nodded, “And a doctor. Jim, my prescription for you, right now, is to relax. The way I saw some of those cadet's look at you when we came, you coulda hung the moon. You're not gonna say the wrong thing to them.”  
“You know me, Bones.” Kirk paced away from him, “I've dedicated my whole life to command. I don't know anything else.”  
“Not your whole life. What about your friends?”  
Kirk froze, the words suddenly bringing to memory an event that had occurred four years ago. Something he would be proud of until he died. In a small way, his friends had been a part of that.   
Kirk spun around, “McCoy, you are a Godsend!”   
McCoy's eyebrows rose, his eyes widening, “Well, I'm not sure what I said, but-”  
“You said the right thing.” Kirk smacked his fist into his palm, “The right thing!”   
Before the doctor could answer, Kirk crossed the room and exited with a spring in his step. Before the doors slid closed again, McCoy caught the sound of his captain's delighted laughter.   
He chuckled, leaning back in the chair, “Well,” He said, with a self-satisfied grin on his face, “I finally got him to listen to doctor's orders!”

~

Applause rose like the sound of a waterfall crashing towards him. Kirk stood behind the podium, the lights shining brightly on him, all cameras pointed in his direction. . . .All eyes on him. The strength of a thousand pairs of eyes was almost overwhelming. All looked up to him waiting for his words of wisdom.   
“Thank you all very much.” He said, his voice amplified by the microphone.   
The applause continued.   
“No, thank you.” He held up his hand and waited for the cheering to subside.   
At last, the clapping died down and suddenly, the silence was very loud. He cleared his throat, looking out over the group assembled. They were all dressed in their red uniforms, their hair combed back or styled. He saw people of all different races and planets. But they all gazed up at him with the same admiration.   
“Again, I'd like to thank all of you for selecting me as your speaker.” He continued, “Its a great honor to be back here again, on the other side of this podium. I can recall sitting in the seats you sit in today, looking forward to graduation. . . and then the stars.”  
Murmurs and smiles rippled across the auditorium.   
“I looked up at the man standing at this podium. I don't really remember his name, or his face. But I remember that day, he challenged us all to do something that would change the course of history. At the time, all I was out to do was prove how good of a cadet I was, and make sure everyone knew I graduated from the academy in three years.”  
A few chuckles rose from the crowd. Most people who graduated from the academy knew that very fact. Children of the staff knew how he had fooled the Kobayashi Maru test.   
“But, the longer I was a part of Starfleet, the more I realized that changing the course of history was what I wanted. I made a good effort, and for the most part, I think I got sufficient results.” He continued, mildly, “But, I am going to tell you something right now, that I don't want you to ever forget.”  
The auditorium when so silent, a pin could have been heard dropping. They were all waiting with bated breath.   
Gripping the edges of the podium, Kirk let his gaze move back and forth across the crowd. It was true, he could remember his own graduation with stunning clarity when other details of his adventurous past seemed to fade with age. Perhaps he remembered it so clearly because of his youthful naivity. On that day, he would have never dreamed he could accomplish the things he had. But more than that, he could have never dreamed of the things he was about to impart to this admiring audience.   
“As many of you know, six months ago, the title of captain was returned to me. Through a series of quite unfortunate events, I was forced to disobey the Federation and return to the self-destructing Genesis planet. There were many good reasons for my ship's mission, but the main reason I returned was for my friends. I cannot tell you how many times the good men and women of my crew were willing to lay down their lives to protect, not only the Enterprise, but also to protect their captain. . .me. Without them, I would not be standing before you today.”   
Kirk paused for a moment, thinking back to those numerous times. He could see Spock's thin, ragged face through the glass of the radiation chamber, the pain, but also the dedication and loyalty, in his eyes. He could feel his throat draw into a knot as he attempted to continue with the speak.   
“Young people, you are going far away from your homes. Some of you, by attending Starfleet Academy, are already far from home. Right now, its an adventure, maybe even something to prove, like me. . .But once you hit the stars, and all you can see ahead of you is space, you must remember one important thing. . .The men and women around you. No matter how fast you graduated, or how much you know, it will always be your crew – your friends – that save your life most often.”  
Gazing out over the audience, Kirk could see several cadets glancing at the man or woman seated beside them, whispering that oh-so important word. “Friends.” He was glancing up and down the rows, when suddenly, his gaze snagged on a face, then halted. There she was, in the front row. How could he have missed her? Her hair was shorter now, cut to the recommended length at the Academy and tied back in a bun. But the shiny, red color was the same and her eyes held the same playful sparkle. Her smile was bigger than he had ever seen.   
In that moment, Kirk thought he could feel those fancy buttons pop, and not because of his tugging. Pride, joy, excitement. . .A dozen wonderful, positive emotions filled his chest, choked him with emotion. He didn't care if all these cadets watched the daring, commanding Captain Kirk shed a few tears. She had certainly been worth it.   
Keeping his eyes trained on her, Kirk finished, “Please, graduates of Starfleet, never forget that.” 

 

~the end~


End file.
